


the grace to fall

by defractum (nyargles)



Series: Tumblr Fic & Prompt Fills [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Archangels, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 10:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3443984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyargles/pseuds/defractum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Satan is on his sixth beer when someone interrupts him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the grace to fall

Satan is on his sixth beer when someone interrupts him.

"Sataniel. You remember how Dad threw you out of heaven and said you were Grounded?" says the bartender, and Satan looks up. The bartender's badge says Jehan, and Satan snorts.

"It's _Grantaire_ now. What're you doing on earth?" Satan – no, Grantaire – defiantly finishes his beer, even though the beverage has no effect on him.

The bartender critically looks at the glass he's holding, and wipes at it with a cloth. "Just checking up on one of my favourite brothers," he says, refilling Grantaire's glass genially. "So, you remember how Dad threw you out of heaven?"

"You call us _all_ your favourite brothers," says Grantaire darkly. "And yes, of course I do, I have a perfect memory and it was only 5000 years ago. Why are you bringing it up now?"

"That's because you _are_ all my favourite brothers," says the bartender, and Grantaire is reminded of days spent in the brightness of Heaven, back when he was Sataniel, as Michael brushed his wings back and kissed him on the forehead and he could feel the love palpitating off him. He grimly starts on his next pint.

"Anyway, I'm not sure if you heard, what with being–"

"–being Grounded, yes. Get to the point, Michael."

"It's ‘Jehan' now," says Jehan-Michael, mimicking him with fondness. "Well, a fortnight ago, Gabriel pointed out a few things to Father, and it got a bit heated because Gabriel is incapable of being anything but, and Father, well, you know Father."

"Not for the last 5000 years," says Grantaire in what he thinks is a witty manner.

"So now we're all Grounded," says Michael/Jehan.

Grantaire puts his drink down with a sudden _'clunk'_. " _All_ of you?" he asks, disbelieving. He and his Father have a bit of a tenuous relationship, sure, but Raphael, Michael, Azrael, Metatron… _Gabriel_ , they live for Father.

"Not permanently," says Jehan, who means _not like you_ , but is the only one of his brothers with enough empathy to not say it aloud. "Just until Gabriel has spent a bit of time on earth and gains some perspective. We'll probably be here for a few hundred years."

"Of course," sighs Grantaire, because naturally, it's all about Gabriel. "And the rest of you?"

"Well, we followed him," says Jehan as if it's preposterous that the archangels do anything but follow Gabriel. "Anyway, we thought we might as well come and find you and catch up–"

"We?" Grantaire holds up a hand and focusses inwards to the part of himself that he tries, daily, to cut off from himself. His Grace rises naturally to the surface, as it's meant to, surging forth now he sets it free and Grantaire has to stop himself before he starts shining like a beacon in this shitty little pub lest the mortals notice. With his reconnection to himself, to what he is, he feels the full force of the other archangels descend upon him. They _are_ here. Not here, in this bar; only Jehan is shining that brightly in his mind, but they're all on this plane, on earth.

Grantaire nearly weeps. He had forgotten what it felt like to be near his brothers. The love and adoration he felt for them. The dependence on each other they had. Everything he has painstakingly spent the last five thousand years putting behind him are undone in a swift, cruel enveloping rush of love from his brothers as they sense his Grace touch theirs.

Grantaire drains his pint in one.

~

"Fancy seeing you here," says Grantaire, marching into his house, Jehan behind him. "You know, it's generally polite to knock before entering someone's house." His bravado is feigned, and the band of archangels currently clustered in his living room are well aware of that but it makes him feel better to try.

Raziel tilts his head. "Is it?"

"I–" Grantaire puts his hand over his face. "Yes. Yes, it is. This is something that humans do, please consider doing this from now on. You can't just fucking appear swathed in a burst of light anymore."

"Language," says Gabriel with a frown.

"Fucking fuckity fuck mcfuck," says Grantaire, just to see Gabriel frown some more. He stands just inside the doorway and looks at them all. None of them have their wings right now, of course, nor their multiple faces, nor height, but he can still tell who is who at a glance. "You lot are getting jobs, you know, I'm not supporting you all."

Gabriel merely blinks at him, as if he doesn't understand him at all, and that's all right; they've never really understood each other. Gabriel's made to take after Father, there's nothing he can do about that, and Grantaire exists for the people on earth.

"We missed you too," says Raphael, walking forward to crush Grantaire to him in a hug, and Raphael always was one of his favourite brothers. Grantaire clutches at him and breathes in the scent of Heaven, the scent he hasn't smelled for five thousand years, and cries.

Grantaire is vaguely aware of the others moving around him, first Samael and Azrael joining them in a hug, then all of the rest too: Michael, Camael, Uriel, Metatron, Raziel and even, eventually, Gabriel. When he finally pries them off him, Grantaire feels a lot better. (He suspects that at least some of it has something to do with Raphael's healing powers.)

"Well," says Grantaire, plopping himself down on his sofa and somehow they've managed to fit six of them on his ratty two-seat sofa but then again, they could fit 8.6766×1049 of them on the head of a pin if they needed to. "Well. What are you going to do now?"

"We're considering this a holiday," says Raphael, who always did have a sense of humour. "Take in the sights, blend in, maybe help the humans along a bit. You can show us around."

"Oh come on," says Azrael, "Satan's got better things to do than show us around."

"It's Grantaire now," says Grantaire. "Seriously, you cannot go around calling me Satan in public. People will think my parents have the worst taste in the world, and I'll have to laugh when they ask if I have daddy issues."

Gabriel frowns again. (It's not that Gabriel has no sense of humour; he just hasn't exercised it very often and so it lies in his heart like a shrivelled, unused muscle.) "Grantaire," he says, trying it out on his unfamiliar mouth, and it might be a new name, but it comes attached with all the old stains of disdain and disapproval.

"That's _my_ name, you can't have it," says Grantaire with a wicked smile, because he just can't stop teasing Gabriel.

"We already picked new names," says Jehan. "And you know mine. Bossuet, Bahorel, Joly, Feuilly, Combeferre, Courfeyrac. And Enjolras."

"Enj. _Ange_ ," says Grantaire, and laughs. "And I suppose you're all going to sleep at my house? And mooch off me?"

"Sounds about right," says Bossuet-Samael, and it's going to take Grantaire a bit of time to get used to everyone's new identities. It only works for him because he's been Grantaire for so long now.

"Right," says Grantaire. "Well. Remember what I said about appearing bathed in light? I believe that a good place to start would be _clothes_."

**Author's Note:**

> For reference:
> 
> Enjolras – Gabriel. The strength of God, angel of justice and power.  
> Courfeyrac – Uriel. The bringer of destiny, angel of repentance and salvation.  
> Combeferre – Raziel. Keeper of the secrets.  
> Jehan – Michael. The kindness of God.  
> Joly – Raphael. God’s empathy, the healing force of Heaven.  
> Bossuet – Samael. The severity of God; an angel of death.  
> Grantaire – Satan(iel). He tempts humans and brings their sins before them in the heavenly court.  
> Bahorel – Azrael. The angel of death and retribution, and leader of the souls.  
> Feuilly – Metatron. The heavenly scribe.  
> Marius – Camael. The angel who seeks God. Also the one who drove Adam and Eve from Eden with a flaming sword.)
> 
> Originally posted [on tumblr](http://defractum.tumblr.com/post/68862823096/archangel-au)


End file.
